Still in My Heart
by iymcool
Summary: A love from childhood. A journey to America. The search for the one nearest to your heart. Ch.1 updated March 27!
1. Ch 1: Remembrance

Still In My Heart

Mike K.

Begun: December 8, 2004

-

When we are children, we make many friends. They come and they go without a single memory. Sometimes however, a certain person's memories stay with us. We miss that person, but what if that person does not miss you?

Ch. 1: Remembrance

"I wonder what it's like," said a young girl who was quietly sitting in her room and gazing out her window. It had been at least ten years since she had met the little boy that had stolen her heart. "Can children really fall in love at such a young age," she thought

At sixteen years old, Anne Brison was a wealthy British heiress to one of London's most prominent department stores. She had blonde-red hair that was usually straight until the end where it would just curl up. She was a petite young woman with average grades that could use some improving, and a lack of a confident nature that could hurt her when working on group projects in school. When she was six years old, a young couple with a seven-year-old child came from America to represent an also very prominent department store. They came to merge the two companies to create a very large chain of stores across that entire east coast of America and along the British Isles as well as scattered around a few other countries located near the West Coast in Europe. However, the business deal had gone wrong and both companies had gone into a deep recession because of the expensive traveling expenses between the two continents. Anne's father had then decided to cut off all communications with businesses from the U.S., even if it was just a simple letter between his daughter and the couple's son.

However, now that Anne was sixteen years old her father had agreed earlier on in her life to give her the finances to take a trip anywhere in the world…except America.

"Daddy," asked Anne in an innocent voice, as she entered the dining room for her morning tea and breakfast.

Her father, a wealthy man in his sixties had a hardened and chiseled face. His once dark hair was now lightening as stress and age took its toll on his body. He was a tall man whose wide shoulders and deep voice suggested that he got respect from his employees without even telling them to give it to him.

"Yes? What is it Anne," asked her father with an airy and relaxed tone of a man who had everything and couldn't care less.

"Well," started out Anne quietly, "I was thinking, about the trip that you offered me..."

"And," asked her father barely glancing up from his paper.

"And I wanted to take it next week."

"Wonderful darling, I will arrange it right away," he said as he set down his paper with a broad grin, "just tell me where you want to go."

"Well…I wanted to go to Ame-"

"Anne," said her father in a tone that she only heard him use when he was "handing out pink slips", "you're forbidden to go there! Don't you remember what happened to us…after those…Americans came here? You are not allowed to be corrupted by that country! Do you understand me?"

"But Daddy!"

"No buts Anne, now, tell me your second choice. You know, Greece has some of the most beautiful views of the sea, so maybe later in the-"

"No Daddy," said Anne with an attitude of defiance that had not crossed her face for years, if not then ever, "I will go to America! I will not wait for next week! I am leaving tomorrow for Ellis Island, and I will not hear otherwise!

With that Anne went up to her room in a huff and began to pack for her trip to an unknown world to where her one love was lost to her just like a fish is to an angler during a storm. However, there were so many people in America. How was Anne going to find the one for her?


	2. Ch 2: finding Your Way Around

Ch. 2: Finding Your Way Around

As the ship took port in New York City, Anne quickly jumped onto the dock and was almost arrested for not going through the Customs Office at Ellis Island. "Oh my, these Americans sure are rough when it comes to other people," said Anne gruffly as she walked into Times Square. For a moment, the enormity of the buildings, and the immense crowds of people overwhelmed her.

After walking around blindly for an hour or so, Anne knew how futile her reason for coming to America was. "Who was I kidding," asked Anne as she sat down at a nearby trolley stop, "how was I supposed to find him? Was I just supposed to waltz right over to America and be swept of my feet by a boy-I mean man-who might not even remember me!" Anne was trying to hold back the oncoming waterfall of tears as the trolley pulled up. "Oh, oh my, I guess I shouldn't be seen as if I was weak in front of these foreigners."

As the trolley doors opened a crowd of people rushed out onto the sidewalk right in front of Anne. One man even ran out of the trolley, grabbed Anne's purse, and ran off! In surprise Anne yelled, "Hey! Come back here with my purse you crook!" Quickly, Anne ran after the thief and easily kicked him down to the ground. Between pummels, a young man dressed in a khaki like uniform ran up behind Anne and tried desperately to pull her off the man.

"Hey, hey get off him!"  
"What? Are you bloody mad?"

"He only wanted-OOF!"

Anne had quickly swung around and landed her fist on the person's cheek.

"Only wanted my money? Is that what you were about to say?"

"Well, uh…yeah, I guess so."

"Then what I heard back in London was true," said Anne with a strange calmness as she stood up.

"Wha-what was true," asked the thief's "rescuer" as he stood up as well while rubbing his cheek.

"THAT ALL AMERICANS ARE MONEY HOGGING PIGS WHO ONLY CARE FOR THEMSELVES," screamed Anne as she ran off down the block.

"Wait," yelled the person as he ran after her.

After a quick ten-minute chase Anne's pursuer finally caught up to her. She was sitting on the steps of somebody's town house.

"What do you want now," asked Anne in a depressed tone

"Well, I uh…I wanted to return your coin purse for you."

"Oh…thank you," said Anne as she held out her hand without looking up from the ground.

"You know, not all of us Americans are money hogging pigs," said Anne's pursuer while holding out his hand, "Ben, Ben Watling."

"Anne, Anne Brison," replied Anne with a surprisingly warm smile, "I'm sorry that I snapped at you earlier. It's my first time in America, and I was already a little shaken up from the trip over."

"It's perfectly alright," said Ben," It's my fault for acting on the thief's behalf."

Anne smiled at Ben, thinking it would be grand if this were the Ben she had come to America to find. However, that would be highly unlikely. Wouldn't it?

"Uhm…Ben," asked Anne," I was wondering if you could show me around the city. I mean, if you're not busy or anything."

"Well," said Ben, slightly taken aback by her forwardness and rudeness, "well, I uh…sure. I just got off from work so I have nothing better to do."

"Oh, thank you very much Ben! So, shall we be off," said Anne as she hopped up.

"My," said Ben as he slowly stood up as if he had arthritis," You Brits sure are demanding."

Ben's cheek instantly turned from tan to rose red in a matter of seconds. Anne had also broken a nail in those few seconds.

"Pig," said Anne, "Now, hold my bag and show me around."

"I though you said that I was a money hogging pig," said Ben as he took her bag.

For the rest of the afternoon, Ben showed Anne the glory that is New York City. Anne was amazed at the many tall building and innovations that the city had produced. The glowing billboards throughout the city intrigued her and Ben, not once, but twice, had to stop her from trying to climb up and touch the lights. Ben also found it amusing at how his new found friend would be amazed at the simple things that he himself took to being common and part of life; hotdogs, picture-shows, baseball. Anne had told Ben that she was the heiress to a wealthy department store chain back in London and had come to America for the World Fair. Ben pretended to believe her, but secretly, he thought he knew that she had another reason for coming. However, he did not want to make a fool of himself and blurt out some false truth about someone who he was not totally sure she was looking for, or wanted to know about. However, that thought still lingered throughout the day that she was here to look for someone, not an event.

By the time evening had come, and both Anne and Ben were tired from the day's traveling, Anne's stomach started growling.

"Oh," said Anne with a sort of surprise, "it's tea-time."

"Good glory," exclaimed Ben, "how many times do you people drink that stuff in one day?"

"For you information," she said haughtily, "In many refined cultures tea is drunk at precise times in the day for a precise time."

"Well I'm so sorry your majesty. Unfortunately for you my place doesn't have any tea," said Ben sarcastically with a low bow.

With an astonished expression Anne replied, "Your place? Are you just assuming that I'll just waltz into your flat without question or irritation! Why, I hardly know you. All I can really say for sure about you is that you live in a grubby smoldering city that will one day crumble beneath itself due to air and noise pollution!"

"Oh, and I suppose that Ireland or wherever your from is a quiet non-smoldering town in the middle of some distant valley!"  
"What," exclaimed Anne as she unconsciously followed Ben up the steps into the apartment building he lived in, "I have already explained to you about England, not Ireland, and how much more lovely and sophisticated we are than you ruffians here in America. We are kind, elegant, generous, sweet, tender, and all things nice; while on the other side of the Ocean you Americans are cruel, crude, tightfisted, rough, and all things nasty!"

"You forgot clever," said Ben with a sly smile.

Without saying another word Anne held up her head high and walked into Ben's apartment. If he were close enough to her, he probably could have heard her holding her breath as she walked in. However, as Anne walked in Ben followed and locked the door to let his neighbors know that he was at home.

Ben's apartment was relatively small, but the space had tried to be used well. Upon entering, one would find themselves facing a kitchen in front of them to their left, and a living room to their right. Further on to the left, there was a partially opened door that led to Ben's bedroom. When Anne walked in, she was awestruck at this culture shock of a living space. As she was wide eyed and almost moved to tears at Ben's poverty, he kindly smiled and led her to the living room. His living room was furnished with one dusty orange couch, two red velvet armchairs, a low coffee table with three and a half legs, and one of the over stuffed red velvet armchairs had light purple trim and so many holes that when Anne sat down a multitude of little and big yellow clouds of stuffing flew all over the place. It seemed that even the cotton was in poverty. Ben sat down in the other red armchair and stared at Anne for a while before asking, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Oh, uhm," Anne seemed hesitant at first as she looked at the kitchen out of the corner of her right eye, "uh, sure."

Ben either didn't seem to notice or just ignored Anne's uncertain tone of voice and said, "What would you like? I have water, Coca-Cola, and, uh…that's about it!"

"Some water please, cool and served with a bit of lemon."

"Oh, so precise with your order now, eh Madame," said Ben while standing up with a dramatic butler like bow.

Anne blushed with a mixed look of embarrassment and anger, "I, well, I, grr…"

"Hehe, I'm just teasing you. So, water with lemon it is then."

Ben walked over to the kitchen and began to look through the cupboards for a clean glass. When he finally found one, he filled it half of the way then went to the refrigerator and took out a lemon. While Ben was doing all of this Anne watched with a strange sense of wonder. When she was little, she remembered sitting in the kitchen watching the cook prepare breakfast and tea. However, the kitchen was much bigger, the silverware and glasses were much nicer, and the cook was a plump old woman, not a handsome young man. As Ben started walking back with the water Anne couldn't seem to stop staring at him. She wasn't sure why she was, sure he was cute and all but something about him, just, something seemed to draw her to him. "Anne? Anne what's wrong?" Ben had been standing right in front of her for a while with the glass outstretched to her.

"Oh," said Anne with a surprised gasp.

Ben smiled and said, "what happened? You zoned out for a second."

"N-nothing, nothing at all, said Anne haughtily with a deep blush, "I was just thinking about...uh…about…"

"About what?"

"About nothing! It's none of you business," retorted Anne as she sipped her water.

Part of the glass was chipped but Anne didn't say anything. For a while there she and Ben just sat there in silence. Anne now felt awkward in the silence and it seemed as tough Ben felt just the same.

"So, uhm…do you have any place to stay tonight," asked Ben without looking at Anne.

"No, but I'm sure that I can find a place," replied Anne.

"I doubt many places in town can exchange Lira to dollars."

"It's Pounds, not Lira you twit."

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

"You know, you can stay here, if you like," said Ben hesitantly

"It wouldn't be proper for a lady to stay in a strange man's house overnight," replied Anne almost snobbishly

"Oh-well, uh…then I guess this is good-night."

"What," exclaimed Anne in a surprised tone, "it's still so early! I mean, aren't you going to be a proper gentleman and show me around the city at night?"

"First off, New York at night is a dangerous place. Second, it wouldn't be proper for a young lady to be seen with a strange young man out late at night now would it?"

"Oh, well, I'm sure that it would be okay if I, well, maybe if you…"

"It's okay," said Ben with a kind smile, "just come back here tomorrow. I get off work at around six but I'll give you a spare key."

"Oh, thank you very much," replied Anne with a light blush.

With that, Anne was shown to the door and then she walked down the street to a nearby hotel. Even after she was alone in her room and in bed, she couldn't get to stop blushing. What was that something about Ben that just seemed so strange? Oh well, tomorrow Anne would try to figure it out.


	3. Ch 3: A Box of Pictures and Memories

Ch. 3: A Box of Pictures and Memories

Back then, we had no worries….

"Hee-hee! Wait up Benji! I can't run as fast as you can!

"That's because I'm Superman!"

"Superman, who's that?"  
"Jiminy, you don't know who Superman is!"

"No, who is he?"

"Why he's the greatest superhero of all time!"

"Oh wow, well then if you're Superman, than I'm Superwoman!"

"Ha-ha, well then, let's go fight crime Superwoman!"

"Okay, but if you're Superman and I'm Superwoman does that mean that we're married?"

"Hmm, I've never thought of it before. I guess it does make us married. Well then, we'll be the best superhero couple ever!"

"Yay!"

Sunlight filtered through the thin cotton blinds of Anne's hotel room. She woke up with a deep sigh. She felt a bit homesick, the only thing was, she didn't miss England at all; it was Ben's apartment that she missed. "Oh," exclaimed Anne with a small bit of surprise, "Ben gave me a key to his apartment last night!" With a quick jump, Anne was out of bed and searching for the key. After frantically searching under the bed and the small bathroom for her treasure Anne remembered that there was a small chest of drawers in the room. She dashed over to the chest as if her life depended on it. In a way, at least to her, it did. The key was sitting on top of the chest along with her purse and a few stray coins. After a few minutes of just standing there and gripping the key as if she were going to lose it, Anne regained her composure and went to wash up and change. "Well," exclaimed Anne to herself, "I guess I'm ready!"

"Hey," shouted a voice from below Anne's feet along with a sharp tapping sound that seemed to be coming from a broomstick, "shadup will ya? Some people are tryin' to sleep down here!"

"Oh, sorry about that sir," shouted Anne down at the floor.

"SHADUP!"

"Oh, uhm…sorry," replied Anne more softly.

"Oh my, what a rude man! I guess America really is a brutish selfish place like my father said it was," thought Anne as she locked her room's door and walked downstairs. "Well, I wonder what I should do while waiting for Ben to get off work?"

"Well there's lots to do m'dear, it seems that you're not from America are ye'?

"What? Who said that," asked Anne to the entire room.

"I did m'dear," a large plump woman from behind the front desk was smiling at Anne, "M'name is Mrs. O'Malley, I'm the owner of this hotel."

"Oh, hello ma'am," replied Anne with a slight curtsey, "my name is Anne Meredith Brison."

"Well, nice to meet ye Anne," said Mrs. O'Malley with a large smile, "I heard you're question Anne and believe I have an answer!"

"My question? What question was that ma'am," asked Anne somewhat confused.

Mrs. O'Malley let out a great big laugh that made her long brown curls bounce, "The question on what to do! Not to fast are ye? Well then, New York has some wonderful clothing shops uptown and some charming little boutiques a few blocks from here."

"Oh you mean shopping?"

Mrs. O'Malley let out another deep laugh and replied, "Why of course I mean shopping dear! So, whaddya say?"

"Well, uhm… shopping sounds lovely."

"Oh, well that's perfect then! Here ya go Anne," Mrs. O'Malley reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a few crisp yet slightly wrinkled dollar bills, "would you mind picking me up a wee somethin' from one of the nearby shops?"

"Oh, of course! What would you like," asked Anne.

"A bottle of _Sucré Fleurir Odeur_! I love the way it smells but I hardly have the time to go and get it! If it's not to much trouble of course…"

"Oh, no trouble at all ma'am!"

"Please, call me Mrs. O'Malley"

"Yes ma-I mean, Mrs. O'Malley, I'll pick you up a bottle of_ Sucré Fleurir Odeur _on my way back," replied Anne as she took the money.

"Ah, thank ye darlin', now then, be off and enjoy the day," replied Mrs. O'Malley as she gave a large beaming smile.

"Oh I will! And I promise not to let you down," exclaimed Anne as she ran outside into the warm sunny day.

The sunlight greeted Anne with its usual cheer and warmth. Today however the sun was accompanied by the clouds and they did not seem as happy as the sun was. Anne however, did not seem to notice this as she had begun to quickly walk up the street to some of the clothing shops that Mrs. O'Malley had told her about. "Later," thought Anne out loud, "I have to remember to go and get Mrs. O'Malley's perfume. I have to do it before Ben gets home though." With a small gasp, Anne stopped walking and just stood in the middle of the sidewalk in what seemed like shock. "W-why do I feel as though I need to finish my errand before Ben gets home? I don't even know him! Why do I feel this sense of being near him? All he did was stop me from killing that man yesterday. Besides, it's highly unlikely that he's the Ben that I'm looking for!" As if reassuring herself, "Right, there is no way that I instantly found the boy from my dreams. Yesterday was all just a coincidence." With that thought in mind, Anne continued on to the clothing shops up the street.

Anne, being the shop-happy woman that she was, practically bought the entire clothing store. By the time she went back outside, the sun had done quite a bit of traveling across the sky, as if an attempt to escape the army of grey clouds that were now nearly black and about to burst forth with an ocean of water that seemed to promise a flood. "My, that was fun. I guess I should get to Ben's now," Anne looked up at the ominous sky, "before the rain comes." Anne started to quickly walk down the street back towards the inn and Ben's apartment. "I wonder if Ben will mind if I take some food from his refrigerator. Hopefully I can make a decent meal for us from what slop he probably has in there."

Anne let herself in to Ben's apartment and set her bags on the floor in the living room. She then set about the kitchen. After looking around and then evaluating what she had to work with, Anne stood in the middle and said, "Well, I honestly know that…I can't cook." For a moment there she just stood in the kitchen with a confused look on her face, then slowly, as if the drain to a bathtub had only been removed a small bit, she began to leak tears. _What type of woman am I? _, she thought, _I can't even cook! What if Ben is the boy I've been looking for? What if he does remember me? What if we fall in love and then get married! What then? Would he accept me as I am? A scared little girl who knows nearly nothing about him and can't even cook food for her husband! _"I'm pathetic!"

"I wouldn't say pathetic, only snobbish, rude, self-centered, arrogant, and hostile."

Anne's head whirled around and Ben stepped back in fright thinking that she had just given herself whiplash from the quick movement. "Ben? Wh-when did you get home? I didn't here you come in!"

"Well, you left the door open so," he walked over and picked her up, his work gloves were still on and he had a rough feel, but smelled of fresh leather. Anne stood there in his arms, her eyes closed and her face filled with that delightfully wonderful scent that Anne loved. "Anne, are you okay?"

"Oh," Anne quickly snapped out of her trance, "I'm fine! Sorry, you were saying?"

"I said that you left the door open so I came in quietly to surprise you."

"Oh," _Surprise me? We only just met yesterday! Don't only couples do that? Maybe we have known each other longer than that… _"W-well, surprise me you did! You…well…yes…uhm…surprised me all right!"

Ben asked with a sad, almost heart-broken look in his dark, almost amber-colored eyes. "Why were you on the floor crying?"

"I-I-"Until now Anne didn't really notice Ben's appearance all that much. She wasn't sure why, for some reason though, she hadn't paid him much mind. Now however, with him looking at her with those eyes of his, she could see all that she had left out. "I was…hm…well….the…kitchen…and…"

"Oh," exclaimed Ben, his eyes immediately lighting up to a now almost gold color, and his tanned skin drawing a small pinkish haze around his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. "Were you having trouble with the stove? It's hard to light it sometimes, don't worry about it though I'll fix dinner." He said this while looking over at all the bags that Anne had brought in. "It seems that you've had a busy day, eh?" He gave a small chuckle then went to the kitchen and began to light the stove.

"Well….I….wait! Are you sure you want to coo-"Anne again, noticed more about Ben. He walked with a sort of tom-cattish gait. As if he could be suave to the one's he loved, suave enough to ask for money and receive gold mines, but with that tenseness that could be unleashed into pure rage against those who tried to endanger his mate. His hair was a dusty brown with some lighter tan colors that made him look striped with faded gold. He stood at 5'10" while Anne was only 5'3" and seemed to have that look of deep concentration when he wasn't talking or addressing anyone except himself. "Ben, if it's not to much trouble may I use your powder room?"

Ben hit his head against the stove as he looked back at Anne. "My what?" he exclaimed with a confused look on his dusty face.

"You're powder room. It's your…uhm…..well..." Anne wasn't sure how to explain a powder room to Ben.

Ben's then seemed to understand and said, "If you mean my bathroom it's down the hall and to the left once you get into my bedroom."

"Thank you…uhm….I'll….just go there….then…" Anne said with an awkward tone.

As she made her way to the bedroom she could hear Ben whistling as he tried to light the stove. Anne slowly opened p the door and peeked in, unsure of what she might find. The room was dark and the only sounds aside from the whistling Ben in the kitchen and the Anne's own breathing was the sound of the city that was quietly drifting through a half closed window across the room. Bens bedroom was surprisingly crowded in contrast with the rest of his apartment. Aside from a chipped ornate headboard the bed had faded white sheets with two flattened pillows and a few weather-worn blankets. On the far end of the room there was a wooden dresser that resembled the headboard. The dresser however had clothes sticking out of the drawers. There was a small chipped lamp on an end-table to the left of his bed. The lamp was a brushed faux gold that was peeling away to reveal the greenish silver nickel underneath along with a chipped opaque ceramic shade. The bulb inside the lamp was a stark white bulb that probably emitted a yellow light instead of a white one.

She walked into the room and quickly turned around to see the back of the door. Her father in England had once told her that American men were pigs that usually had pictures of naked girls strung about their houses to excite them. Anne however saw no nude pictures of girls on the back of Ben's door, and on closer inspection of the bed, under the mattress. She wasn't trying to snoop, she was just trying to disprove myths that her father hat told her. In a matter of minutes Anne had gone through almost every drawer in the room in search of something to confirm that this was the Ben she had been looking for. Her Ben, The Ben, the only Ben for her that her father had forbidden her to write to. However, all she found was normal bedroom things. With a heavy sigh she went to the bathroom and turned on the sink so that whoever that Ben out there in the kitchen was wouldn't hear her sobbing.

"Anne, are you okay in there," called Ben from the kitchen, "you've been in there for over fifteen minutes."

Anne opened the door to the bathroom, her face wet with a mixture of water from the sink and the water from her eyes, "I'm fine. Don't you know not to ask what a lady does in the bathroom," she called back with an annoyed tone.

Ben chuckled and responded, "Sorry, I guess the Queen doesn't need to be mothered as much as she is then."

Anne was on her way to the kitchen when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. At the base of the lamp on the nightstand there was a small outline for a drawer. She must've missed it when she was searching the room for nude picture of girls. It was a small drawer, maybe only four inches wide, but about six inches long to form the base of the lamp. Anne looked at it curiously like a cat looks at a string being dangled in front of it's face. The switch for the lamp was in the middle of the drawer so instinctively she pulled it instead of turning it. The drawer came out to about five and a half inches before being stopped by something. It was overstuffed with frayed and worn papers that almost seemed to breathe when released from their home. Anne sat on Ben's bed, which was firm yet worn and comfortable and examined the contents of the drawer.


	4. Ch 4: Memories from Across the Pond

Ch. 4: Memories from across the pond

_Dear Anne,_

_I have just arrived back at my house. The boat ride was terrible but mom said that once I got back that I would be able to write to you! Since I can't write yet mom is doing it for me. Playing with you was lots of fun and I hope that we get to play together again real soon!_

_Love,_

_Benji_

There were a few letters similar to that stuffed into the box. Along with those there were a couple of pictures that had begun to bend and crack from being handled too much. There wasn't anything formal like a family picture, but they obviously meant something to Ben. One picture showed two children laughing and smiling in the grey sunshine outside a large brick building.

"Th-that's my house," Anne stammered, "This must have been when they came to visit."

As she looked through the rest of the box she saw another picture from her childhood. It showed a little boy and girl hugging while their parents loaded a taxi. "…when they left," said Anne as she looked at the picture. "This is him. This is the Ben that I met back home in England. This is my Ben."

"That's your what? Your bed? I don't think so missy," said Ben as he walked into the bedroom.

"I….I didn't hear you! I mean…" stammered Anne.

"Hey what's that," asked Ben as he began to walk over to Anne, "is that….the box from my lamp? Why do you have it?"

"I…you see…I…why didn't you send this to me?"

"You don't have any right to-"

"Like Hell I don't! Of course I have the right to see this," she yelled as she got up and walked towards Ben with the letter in her hand, "you promised to write to me!"

"Anne…I was little….business with my parents and your dad didn't go so well."

"But you promised," sobbed Anne as she practically collapsed onto Ben, "you promised…you promised...," she began to sob on Ben's shoulder as she let her arms fall to her sides.

"Anne...that was so long ago…," said Ben as held Anne close to him, allowing her to sob until she fell asleep.


End file.
